_Constant association with well-bred and well-educated society_, cannot

be too highly estimated as an assistant in the acquisition of the

attributes of which we propose to speak. A taste for such companionship

may be so strengthened by habit as to form a strong barrier to the

desired indulgence of grosser inclinations. "Show me your friends, and

I'll tell you what you are," is a pithy Spanish proverb. Choose yours, I

earnestly entreat, in early life, with a view to self-improvement and

self-respect. And, while on this point, permit me to warn you against

mistaking pretension, wealth, or position, for intrinsic merit; or the

advantages of equality in elevated social rank, for an equivalent to

mental cultivation, or moral dignity.

One of the collateral benefits resulting from proper social

associations, will be an escape from _eccentricities_ of manner, dress,

language, etc.; erroneous habits in relation to which, when once

established, often cling to a man through all the changes of time and

circumstance.

But, as observation proves that this, though a safeguard, is by no means

always a sufficient defense, it is well to resort to various

precautions, additionally--as a prudent general not only carefully

inspects the ramparts that guard his fortress, but stations sentinels,

who shall be on the look-out for approaching foes.

So then, my dear boys, do not regard me as descending to puerilities

unworthy of myself and you, when I call your attention to such matters

as your attitude in standing and sitting, or any other little

individualizing peculiarities.

Some men fall into a habit of walking and standing with their heads run

out before them, as if doubtful of their right to keep themselves on a

line with their fellow-creatures. Others, again, either elevate the

shoulders unnaturally, or draw them forward so as to impede the full,

healthful play of the lungs. This last is too much the peculiar habit of

_students_, and contracted by stooping over their books, undoubtedly.

Then again, you see persons swinging their arms, and see-sawing their

bodies from side to side, so as to monopolize a good deal more than

their rightful share of a crowded thoroughfare, steamer cabin, or

drawing-room floor. Nothing is more uncomfortable than walking arm in

arm with such a man. He pokes his elbows into your ribs, pushes you

against passers-by, shakes you like a reed in the wind, and, perhaps,

knocks your hat into the gutter with his umbrella--and all with the most

good-humored unconsciousness of his annoying peculiarity. If you are so

unfortunate as to be shut up in a carriage with him, his restless

propensity relieves itself to the great disturbance of the reserved

rights of ladies, and the frequent impalement upon his protruding elbows

of fragments of fringe, lace, and small children! At table, if it be

possible, his neighbors gently and gradually withdraw from his immediate

vicinity, leaving a _clearing_ to his undisputed possession. He usually

may be observed to stoop forward, while eating, with his plate a good

foot from the customary locality of that convenience, pushed before him

towards the middle of the table, and his arms so adjusted that his

elbows play out and in, like the sweep of a pair of oars.

A little seasonable attention to these things will effectually prevent a

man of sense from falling into such peculiarities. Early acquire the

habit of standing and walking with your chest thrown out--your head

erect--your abdomen receding rather than protruding--not leaning back

any more than forward--with your arms _scientifically_ adjusted--your

hat on the _top_ (not on the back, or on one side) of your head--with a

self-poised and firm, but elastic tread; not a tramp, like a war-horse;

not a stride, like a fugitive bandit; not a mincing step, like a

conjurer treading on eggs; but, with a compact, manly, homogeneous sort

of bearing and movement.

Where there has been any discipline at least, if not always, inklings of

character may be drawn from these tokens in the outer man. For

instance--the light, quick, cat-like step of Aaron Burr, was as much a

part of the man as the Pandemonium gleam that lurked in the depths of

his dark, shadowed eyes. I remember the one characteristic as distinctly

as the other, when I recall his small person and peculiar face. So with

the free, firm pace by which the noble port of De Witt Clinton was

accompanied--one recognized, at a glance, the high intellect, the lofty

manhood, embodied there.

Crossing the legs, elevating the feet, lounging on one side, lolling

back, etc., though quite excusable in the _abandon_ of bachelor

seclusion, should never be indulged in where ceremony is properly

required. In the company of ladies, particularly, too much care cannot

be exhibited in one's attitudes. It is then suitable to sit upright,

with the feet on the floor, and the hands quietly adjusted before one,

either holding the hat and stick (as when paying a morning visit), or

the dress-hat carried in the evening, or, to give ease, on occasion, a

book, roll of paper, or the like. Habits of refinement once established,

a man feels at ease--he can trust himself, without watching, to be

_natural_--and nothing conduces more to grace and elegance than this

quiet consciousness. Let me add, that true comfort, real enjoyment are

no better secured under any circumstances, by indulging in anything

that is _intrinsically unrefined_, and that a certain _habitual

self-restraint_ is the best guarantee of ease, propriety and elegance,

when a man would fain do entire justice to himself.

Habits connected with matters of the table, as indeed with all sensuous

enjoyments, should always be such as not to suggest to others ideas of

merely selfish animal gratification. Among minor characteristics, few

are so indicative of genuine good-breeding as a man's mode of _eating_.

Upon Poor Richard's principle, that "nothing is worth doing at all that

is not worth doing well," one may very properly attach some consequence

to the formation of correct habits in relation to occasions of such very

frequent recurrence. It is well, therefore, to learn to sit uprightly at

table, to keep one's individual "aids and appliances" compactly

arranged; to avoid all noise and hurry in the use of these conveniences;

neither to mince, nor fuss with one's food; nor yet to swallow it as a

boa-constrictor does his,--rolled over in the mouth and bolted _whole_;

or worse still, to open the mouth, to such an extent as to remind

observers that alligators are _half mouth_. Eating with a knife, or with

the fingers; soiling the lips; using the fork or the fingers as a

tooth-pick; making _audible_ the process of mastication, or of drinking;

taking soup from the _point_ of a spoon; lolling forward upon the table,

or with the elbows upon the table; soiling the cloth with what should be

kept upon the plate; putting one's private utensils into dishes of

which others partake; in short, everything that is odd, or coarse,

should nowhere be indulged in.

Cut your meat, or whatever requires the use of the knife, and, leaving

that dangerous instrument conveniently on one side of your plate, eat

with your fork, using a bit of bread to aid, when necessary, in taking

up your food neatly.

When partaking of anything too nearly approaching a liquid to be eaten

with a fork, as stewed tomato, or cranberry, _sop_ it with small pieces

of bread;--a _spoon_ is not used while eating meats and their

accompaniments. Never take up large bones in the fingers, nor bite

Indian corn from a mammoth ear. (In the latter case, a long _cob_

running out of a man's mouth on either side, is suggestive of the mode

in which the snouts of dressed swine are adorned for market!) If you

prefer not to cut the grain from the ear, break it into small pieces and

cut the rows lengthwise, before commencing to eat this vegetable.

When you wish to send your plate for anything, retain your knife and

fork, and either keep them together in your hand, or rest them upon your

bread, so as not to soil the cloth.

Should you have occasion for a tooth-pick, hold your napkin, or your

hand, before your mouth while applying it, and on no account resort to

the _perceptible_ assistance of the tongue in freeing the mouth or teeth

from food.

Have sufficient self-control, when so unfortunate as to be disgusted

with anything in your food, to refrain from every outward manifestation

of annoyance, and if possible, to conceal from others all participation

in your discovery.

Accustom yourself to addressing servants while at table, in a low, but

intelligible tone, and to a good-natured endurance of their blunders.

Avoid the appearance of self-engrossment, or of abstraction while

eating, and, for the sake of health of mind and body, acquire the

practice of a cheerful interchange of both civilities and ideas with

those who may be, even temporarily, your associates.

It is now becoming usual among fashionable people in this country to

adopt the French mode of conducting ceremonious dinners, that of placing

such portions of the dessert as will admit of it, upon the table,

together with plateaux of flowers, and other ornaments, and having the

previous courses served and carved upon side-tables, and offered to each

guest by the attendants. But it will be long before this custom obtains

generally, as a daily usage, even among the wealthier classes. It will,

so far continue rather an exception than a rule, that the _art of

carving_ should be regarded as well worth acquiring, both as a matter of

personal convenience, and as affording the means of obliging others.

Like every other habit connected with matters of the table, exquisite

_neatness_ and discrimination should characterize the display of this

gentlemanly accomplishment. Aim at dexterous and rapid manipulation, and

shun the semblance of hurry, labor, or fatigue. Familiarity with the

_anatomy_ of poultry and game, will greatly facilitate ease and grace in

carving.

Always help ladies with a remembrance of the moderation and

fastidiousness of their appetites. If possible, give them the choice of

selection in the cuts of meats, especially of birds and poultry.

Never pour gravy upon a plate, without permission. A little of the

filling of fowls may be put with portions of them, because that is

easily laid aside, without spoiling the meat, as gravy does, for many

persons.

All meats served in mass, should be carved in _thin slices_, and each

laid upon one side of the plate, carefully avoiding soiling the edge, or

offending the delicacy of ladies, in particular, by too-ensanguined

juices.

Different kinds of food should never be mixed on the plate. Keep each

portion of the accompaniments of your meats neatly separated, and, where

you _pay for decency and comfort_, take it as a matter of course that

your plate, knife, and fork are to be changed as often as you partake of

a different dish of meat.

_Fish_ is eaten with bread and condiments only; and the various kinds of

meat with vegetables appropriate to each. _Game_, when properly cooked

and served, requires only a bit of bread with it.

By those who best understand the art of eating, _butter_ is never taken

with meats or vegetables. The latter, in their simple state, as

potatoes, should be eaten with salt; most of them need no condiment, in

addition to those with which they are dressed before coming to table.

Salads, of course, are prepared according to individual taste; but the

well-instructed take butter at dinner only after, or as a substitute

for, the course of pastry, etc. with bread, if at all. The English make

a regular course of bread, cheese, and butter, preceding the dessert

proper--nuts, fruit, etc.; but they never eat both butter and cheese at

the same time.

Skins of baked potatoes, rinds of fruit, etc., etc., should never be put

upon the cloth; but _bread_, both at dinner and breakfast, is placed on

the table, at the left side of the plate, except it be the small bit

used to facilitate the use of the fork.

Never drum upon the table between the courses, fidget in your chair, or

with your dress, or in any manner indicate impatience of due order and

deliberation, or indifference to the conversation of those about you. A

_gentleman_ will take time to dine decorously and comfortably. Those

whose subserviency to _anything, or any one_, prevents this, are not

_freemen_!

Holding, as I do, that

"_To enjoy is to obey,_"

let me call your attention, in this connection, to the truth that the

pleasures of the table consist not so much in the _quantity_ eaten as in

the _mode of eating_. A moderate amount of simple food, thoroughly and

deliberately masticated, and partaken of with the agreeable accessories

of quiet, neatness and social communion, will not only be more

beneficial to the physical man, but afford more positive enjoyment, than

a larger number of dishes, when hurriedly eaten in greater quantities.

I have frequently remarked among our young countrymen a peculiarity

which a moment's reflection will convince you is exceedingly injurious

to health--that of swallowing an enormous amount of fluid at every meal.

Reflect that the human stomach is scarcely so large as one of the

goblets which is repeatedly emptied at dinner, by most men, and that all

liquids taken into that much-abused organ, must be absorbed before the

assimilation of solid food commences, and you will see, at once, what a

violation of the natural laws this practice involves. Here, again, is

one of the evil effects of the fast-eating of fast Americans. Hurrying

almost to feverishness, at table, and only half masticating their food,

the assistance of _ice-water_ is invoked to facilitate the process of

swallowing, and to allay the more distressing symptoms produced by haste

and fatigue!

Before we leave these little matters, let us return for an instant, to

that of the _position_ assumed while _sitting_. The "_Yankee_"

peculiarity, so often ridiculed by foreigners, of tipping the chair back

upon the two hind feet, is not yet obsolete, even in our "best society."

Occasionally some uninstructed rustic finds his way into a fashionable

drawing-room, where "modern antique furniture," as the manufacturers

call it in their advertisements, elicits all the proverbial ingenuity

of his native land, to enable him to indulge in his favorite attitude.

"I thought I saw the ghost of my chair!" said a fair friend to me, as

soon as a visitor had left us together, one morning, not long since. "I

was really distressed by his efforts to tilt it back--these fashionable

chairs are so frail, and he would have been intensely mortified had he

broken it! Have you seen the last 'Harper,' Colonel?"

Do not permit yourself, through an indifference to trifles, to fall into

any unrefined habits in the use of the handkerchief, etc., etc. Boring

the ears with the fingers, chafing the limbs, sneezing with unnecessary

sonorousness, and even a too fond and ceaseless caressing of the

moustache, are in bad taste. Everything connected with _personal_

discomfort, with the mere physique, should be as unobtrusively attended

to as possible.

When associated with women of cultivation and refinement--and you should

addict yourself to no other female society--you cannot attend too

carefully to the niceties of personal habit. Sensitive, fastidious, and

very observant of _minutiae_--indeed often judging of character by

_details_--you will inevitably lose ground with these discriminating

observers, if neglectful of the trifles that go far towards constituting

the _amenities of social life_. An elegant modern writer is authority

for the fact that the Gauls attributed to woman, "an additional

sense--the _divine sense_." Perhaps the Creator may have bestowed this

gift upon the defenseless sex, as a counterpoise to the superior

strength and power of man, even as he has given to the more helpless of

the lower creatures swiftness of motion, instead of capacity for

resistance. But be that as it may, no man should permit himself any

habit that will not bear the scrutiny of this _divine sense_--much less,

one that will outrage all its fine perceptions.

Apropos of _details_--I will take leave to warn you against the

_swaggering manner_ that some young men, whose bearing is otherwise

unexceptionable, fall into among strangers, apparently with the mistaken

idea that they will thus best sustain their claims to an unequivocal

position in society. So in the sitting-rooms at hotels, in the

pump-rooms at watering-places, on the decks of steamers, etc., persons

whose juvenility entitles them to be classed with those who have nursery

authority for being "seen and not heard," are frequently the most

conspicuous and noisy. Shallow, indeed, must be the discernment of

observers who conceive a favorable impression of a young man from such

an exhibition!

In company, do not stand, or walk about while others sit, nor sit while

others stand--especially ladies. Acquire a light step, particularly for

in-door use, and a _quiet_ mode of conducting yourself, generally.

Ladies and invalids will not then dread your presence as dangerous--like

that of a rampant war-horse, ill-taught to

"Caper nimbly in a lady's chamber!"

If you are fond of playing at chess and other games, it will be worth

your while to observe yourself until you have fixed habits of entire

politeness, under such circumstances. All unnecessary movements, every

manifestation of impatience or petulance, and all exultation when

successful, should be repressed. Thus, while seeking amusement, you may

acquire self-control.

Begin early to remember that health and good spirits are easily

impaired, and that _habit_ will materially assist us in the patient

endurance of suffering we should manifest for the sake of those about

us--attendants, friends, "the bosom-friend dearer than all," whom no

philosophy can teach insensibility to the semblance of unkindness from

one enthroned in her affections.

Don't fall into the habit, because you are a branch of the _Lunettes_

family, of using glasses prematurely. _Students_ are much in error here.

Every young divinity-student, especially, seems emulous of this

troublesome appendage. Depend on it, this is all wrong, either absurd

affectation, or ignorance equally unfortunate.

Ladies, it is said, are the _readers_ of America, but who ever sees the

dear creatures donning spectacles in youth? Enter a female college and

look for the glasses that, were the youthful devotees of learning there

assembled of the other sex, would deform half the faces you observe.

Much better were it to inform yourselves of the laws of optics, and use

the organs now so generally abused by the young, judiciously, resting

them, when giving indications of being overtaxed, rather than

endeavoring to supply artificial aid to their natural strength.

Students, especially, should always read and write with the _back to the

light_, so seated that the light falls not upon the eyes, but upon the

book or paper before them. That reminds me, too, how important it is

that one should not _stoop forward_ more constantly than is necessary,

while engaged in sedentary pursuits, but lean back rather than forward,

as much as possible, throwing out the chest at the same time. Many books

admit of being raised in the hand, in aid of this practice, and the

habit of rising occasionally, and expanding the chest, and straightening

the limbs will be found to relieve the weariness of the sedentary.

But nothing so effectually prevents injury to health, from studious

habits, as _early rising_. This gives time for the out-door exercise

that is so requisite as well as for the use of the eyes by _daylight_.

There is a great deal of nonsense mixed up with our literature, which

seizes the fancy of the young, because embodied in poetry, or clothed

with the charm of fiction. Of this nature is what we read about,

"trimming the midnight lamp," to search for the Pierean spring. Obey the

"Breezy call of incense-breathing morn,"

and she will environ you with a joyous band of blooming Hours, and guide

you gaily and lightly towards sparkling waters, whose properties are

Knowledge and Health!

But if you would habitually rise early, you must not permit every

trivial temptation to prevent your also _retiring early_. The laws of

fashionable life are sorely at variance with those of Health, on this

point, as well as upon many others; but, happily, they are not

_absolute_, and those who have useful purposes to accomplish each day,

must withstand the tyranny of this arbitrary despot. Time for the

toilet, for exercise, for intellectual culture and mental relaxation, is

thus best secured. By using the earlier hours of each day for our most

imperative occupations, we are far less at the mercy of contingent

circumstances than we can become by any other system of life.

"Solitude," says Gibbon, "is the school of Genius," and the advantages

of this tuition are most certainly secured before the idlers of

existence are abroad!

Avoid the habit of regarding yourself as an invalid, and of taking

nostrums. A knowledge and observance of the rules of _Dietetics_ are

often better than the concentered wisdom of a Dispensary, abstinence

more effective than medical applications, and the recuperative power of

Nature, when left to work out her own restoration, frequently superior

to the most skillful aid of learned research. But when compelled to

avail yourself of medical assistance, seek that which _science_ and

_integrity_ render safest. No sensible man, one would think, will

intrust the best boon of earth to the merciless experiments of

unprincipled and ignorant charlatans, or credulously swallow quack

medicines recommended by old women: and yet, while people employ the

most accomplished hatter, tailor, and boot-maker, whose services they

can secure, they will give up the _inner_ man to the influence of such

impositions upon the credulity of humanity!

Assuming, as an accepted truth, that it is your purpose, through life,

to admit the rights of our fair tyrants

"In court or cottage, wheresoe'er their home,"

I will commend to you the early acquisition of habits appropriate to our

relations to women as their _protectors_. In dancing, riding, driving,

walking, boating, travelling, etc., etc.,--wherever the sexes are

brought together in this regard (and where are they not, indeed, when

commingled at all?)--observe the gentle courtesies, exhibit the watchful

care, that go far towards constituting the settled charms of such

intercourse. It is not to be forgotten, as I think I have before

remarked, that women judge of character, often, from trifling details;

thus, any well-bred woman will be able to tell you which of her

acquaintances habitually removes his hat, or throws aside his cigar,

when addressing her, and who, of all others, is most watchful for her

comfort, when she is abroad under his escort. Be sure, too, that this

same fair one could confess, if she would make a revelation on the

subject, exactly what men she shuns because they break her fans,

disarrange her bouquets, tear her flounces, touch her paintings and

prints with moist fingers (instead of merely _pointing_ to some part)

handle delicate _bijouterie_ with dark gloves, dance with uncovered

hands, etc., etc. But even if you are her _confidant_, she will not tell

you how often her quick sensibility is wounded by fancying herself the

subject of the _smirks_, _whispers_, and _knowing glances_ in which some

men indulge when grouped with their kindred bipeds, in society!

At the risk of subjecting myself to the charge of repetition, I will

endeavor, before concluding this letter, to enumerate such Habits as, in

addition to those of which I have already spoken, I deem most entitled

to the attention of those who are establishing a system of life.

The American Gentleman's Guide to Politeness and Fashion or, Familiar Letters to his Nephews · 第 20 / 29 段